The Willow Weeps with Me
by LuvingCouples
Summary: A young Francis and Arthur become the best of friends and they stand with each other through thick and cold. But what happens if their friendship is taken away? What stands in their places? -Young Fruk You get what you get and learn to live with it.
1. We've Just Met

A young French boy of six stared down at the marble-shaped rocks blocking his way, and like a sparrow, he flew over them, a trudge in his hop.

"Oh, suck it up Franny." His mother called out, almost angrily, picking up yet another litered plastic bottle, it's label of "Aquafina" smudged over with dirt and other unspeakable things.

"Well, I shouldn't have to clean the world!" He kicked an empty, filthy beer case in front of him. "That's God's job!" His mother gave him a scolding look as she sped up next to him, taking his hand, but he ripped it away, a pout glued to his lips.

"I know, I don't want to do this either," She growled quietly, squishing the plastic bottle with her long fingernails. "but it's your fault."

He tossed his arms in the air, stomping faster than her. He threw the beer case onto the ground. "No it isn't!" He shouted, squishing the beer case with his sandals. "The kid hit me first, Mama!"

She slapped his shoulder this time, picking the stomped-on beer case and shoving it into her child's arms. "Fran, you're always causing trouble!" She yanked one of his hands while he gripped the crushed cardboard case with the other. "Other kids don't do that!"

He pointed his nose upwards, huffing out to himself and grasping his mother's hand just as tight as she did his. "You never believe me!"

"Because you lie." She replied, pumped his hand farther forward. "If you didn't lie, maybe I could believe you."

He slammed the cardboard into the trash bag in the priest's hands in front of him. "Well, he /did/ hit me first!"

His mother sighed in defeat, pointing to the shoreline of the beach. "Go pick up the trash over there, Fran."

He puffed out his tiny chest and crossed his arms. "I don't have to." He said, snobbishly tilting his nose away from her. She knealt down and glared at him. His eyes fearlessly stared back at her as she pointed to the coastline again.

"Do what I tell you to do, Fran." She hissed, pointing over to the waces crashing against the rocky shore.

He angrily pouted at her, stomped his foot, and stormed over to the said coastline. "Fine, stupid, stupid!"

As soon as he got to the shore, he glanced back over to his mother, who was talking to the priest and tossing yet another water bottle in the trash. He smirked and smoothed out his light bluish-purple dress-like tunic. He nestled down onto the shore, kicking his feet in the warm waves. He picked up a smooth, round stone and tossed it into the water, watching it 'plump' into the water instead of skipping over the waves merrily.

He stood up and ran to the dock, not far away from where he was. He sat down on the dock and reached for the rocks underneath it. He made a tiny collection of stones and shoved them close together, kicking his feet in the slightly-calmer-than-the-coastlines water.

He snickered and snatched a rock, throwing it farther and watching it skip this time. He giggled and traced his rough, yet tiny fingers over another rock. He was reaching it into his gut like a frisbee when something hard hit him in the back of the head.

"Hey, don't do that." Simple words came from somewhere behind him. He turned his head but not his body and peered behind him. A girl slightly taller than him, with long, scarlet hair down to her hips chased a short, scrawny, blonde boy, who ran straight for him.

He raced until he was right beside him, and the girl with lenghty,red hair stopped a while back and watched the small boy approach the French boy.

The French boy watched as the blond boy sat down beside him and gazed up at him, with gigantic emerald orbs and a petite smile on his lips. "Don't throw rocks in the water." The blond boy said, and the French boy grimaced.

"Why can't I?" The French troublemaker furrowed his worm-like eyebrows.

"You'll hurt the water." He replied, and the French boy responded with a giggle.

"You're silly," the French kid replied,lacing his fingers around his round stone again. "give it a try." He held the circular rock out to the other as he slowly took it.

The boy tossed it straight down into the water with a 'plunk' noise. It sank right away, but the kid's lit-up face proved other wise.

"I did it, see?" He stuck his tongue out mockingly. "I bet I can throw it farther than you!"

He laughed. "Oh really? We'll see about that!" He divided a handful of rocks for the both of them. "I challnge you to a rock-throwing contest!"

The younger boy tilted his head to the side curiously. "A contest? What's that?"

The elder laughed audibly. "A contest is like a game!" He answered, not wanting to complicate the situation for the smaller boy, his emerald eyes shining as he glanced to the French boy and then to the water.

"Oh, okay!" He grinned and grabbed one right away, throwing it down again, watching it sink. "I did it again, I'm so good at it!"

The French boy chuckled and grabbed the younger boy's hand. "You're doing it wrong." He smiled lightly. "I'll help you though! Stand up!" As if on command, he did so, the Frenchboy following the action. He reached for a stone and placed it in the boy's hand, still holding his other hand over the younger's own.

He pulled the boy's arm back with his own and threw it back in it's original post, and as the boy let go, the rock flew across the waves.

"Wow, that was so cool!" He cheered and clapped his hands like a baby, grabbing another and repeating the told steps himself, though it didn't fly over the water like the last one did.

The Frenchboy giggled and tossed one itself, followed by another. Soon the boy's were completly distracted with the game and forgot about the other's on the beach. Soon though, their play-date was interupted.

"Franny, what are you doing, slacking off?" The Frenchboy's mother called, acat-walking to her son, her face enraged.

"But Mama, I found a friend!" He replied, his rare innocent smile lighting up his face.

When his mother's eyes fell on the boy, they widened in shock, and a scream carried out from behind him. He swiftly turned around, only to see his little friend holding tightly onto the dock's columns, crying for help.

The Frenchboy jumped down from his post and stood by the boy, extending his hand to him. The other boy glanced to it as he clinged to the wooden pole holding up the dock itself. His eyes danced with tears and he ceased them shut.

"Give me your hand," the Frenchboy shouted, the ocean's strong waves and currents yelling back at him. "I'll grab you!" The tiny boy lifted his eyelids open just a peek to gaze at the Frenchboy. He whined and let go with one hand to reach it towards the Frenchboy. He grabbed his hand but suddenly, something stronger scooped the younger child onto the docks. The Frenchboy hopped up onto the docks and saw his mother's descending eyes upon him.

"He could've gotten hurt, Franny." She hissed, glancing to the kid now being held by the lady with the lengthy, ruby hair.

"I tried to help him, though!" The Frenchboy crossed his arms and stared at his tiny friend blushing and hopping out of the girl's arms and running over to him. He hugged the Frenchboy tightly.

Even the Frenchboy's mother was taken aback slightly and had to watch for a moment before it registered in her mind- and the Frenchboy's expression showed he did too.

"What are you doing?" The Frenchboy inquired quietly, slowly wrapping his arms around the tiny boy as well.

"I'm hugging my hero!" The boy said, blushing lightly as he gazed up at the Frenchboy. "...I mean my heroine."

The Frenchboy turned pink and hugged the tiny boy back just as tightly. He couldn't manage to see anything in return.

The smaller boy pulled apart first, smiling at the Frenchboy. "I hope we can play again sometime!" He said sweetly, grabbing ahold of the red haired girl's hand and they started to walk away as the Frenchboy stood right where he was with his mother, watching him walk away.

Once they were gone, the Frenchboy's mother grabbed her son's hand and walked to their house, which wasn't very far from the beach. Once they were home, his mother lay down on the couch, as if to sleep, but she just stared at the walls.

Near night time, the Frenchboy tip-toed into the living room past his bedtime to see his mother. "Mama?" The boy asked, playing with his fingers.

"Yeah, what is it, Fran?" She questioned, stroking his silky blond hair that went down just a little below his shoulders.

"Why did the boy today call me a heroine?"He asked, and his mother chuckled.

"He thinks your a lady, Franny." She answered, and his eyes went wide.

"Bu-but I'm not a girl!" He protested, but his mother just laughed once again.

"I know, Franny. But he's a good boy, and he has a rich family," she smirked."and I thing he likes you."

The youn Frenchboy turned bright scarlet. "No, he couldn't! We only just met today!"

"Fran, face it, he thinks you're his hero...well, heroine." She laughed. "Just give it a chance."

"But what if he finds out that I'm a boy too?" His eyes were wide with curiousity and concern.

His mother cupped his face tenderly. "Francis, if he really loves you, it won't matter."

"What do ya mean, Mama?" His eyes still twinkled.

"You'll understand oneday, Franny." She let go of his face and rolled over, her back facing him. "Now go to sleep."

He laughed and kissed his Mama's hand goodnight and did what as he was told.

But sleep didn't come all the easy. He gazed up at the brown ceiling, day-dreaming about what loving the cute boy he saw today would be like. It made him smile to think of holding him again like he did today. But if the boy thought he was a girl.. did it change those happy thoughts?

Those were his last daydreams before he fell fast asleep.


	2. Shy Friends

rancis skipped down to the woods not far from town and started to explore. He grinned childishly as he picked a wild berry and licked it before chomping his teeth into it and swallowing it. He picked another and placed it in his picnic basket, followed by many more plump, wild berries. He snatched one more and swallowed it, but this one felt different sliding down his throat. It was kind of soft and started to come back up his throat, poking at his neck.

He coughed it out and saw that the wild berry moved! He poked at the tiny red berry and finally crushed it out of fear. He lifted the dead berry onto his hand and counted it's tiny legs. Six? Eight?

Was it really a berry? He giggled but felt bad for killing the berry and dug a tiny hole with his fingers and put it inside. He stuck a piece of evergree bark in front of his hole and bowed his head.

He prayed aloud, ignoring the forst noises and the nearby rumble of cars' engines.

"I bow my head to you lord, please raise this poor living thing's soul up to your gates. Please bless everything with their wildest dreams, even if it hurts them. God bless this poor thing, and in Jesus' name..Amen." He whispered, opening his closed eyes only to see a bug-eyed, familiar blond boy staring up at him curiously, sitting on the bug's grave.

"Hey-hey move!" Francis snatched the boy in his arms and moved him aside, and the boy jabbed a finger at him.

"Don't tell me what to do!" He pouted and furrowed his bushy, catipillar-like eyebrows. "No one can!"

"What about your Mama?" Francis asked, and the boy's demanding frown softened into an upset one.

"My Mama don't like me." He said simply, scooting so he could sit by the slightly bigger boy.

"Whaddya mean? I'm sure she likes you!" Francis seemed upset to hear such information and he held the younger one close to his shoulder. This wasn't too bad.

"My Mama said I'm noisy and spoiled." The boy blushed and leaned on Francis. "But my Papa and granpa and mawmaw love me very much!"

Francis stayed silent for a moment, before speaking up again. "Where's your Mama now?"

The young boy smiled softly. "My Mama left me two years ago." He held up his hands and gave him a peace-sign, as if telling him he could count to two.

"I'm sorry that happened..." Francis trailed off and rubbed the boy's hand affectionatley. "What about the red-haired lady then? Who was that?"

The young lad smiled up at Francis. "That was my sister. She's older than me, and she watches me."

Francis nodded and smiled down at him. "She was nice the other day."

The other lad gazed up at him. "Her name is Nessa."

"That's a pretty name." Francis answered promptly. "I bet yours is nice too, but I haven't heard it yet."

"It's Arthur," The blond boy said, blushing at the question. "and what's your's, pretty lady?"

Francis smiled down at the boy. "Franc...ine." He said, giving himself a girl name, if it was going to be like that.

"Franc..ine?" The boy tilted his head and giggled. "That's a really beautiful name! It matches such a lady.." He kissed Francis' hand and he giggled as well, holding his hand, making the slightly younger boy turn scarlet.

"You're so sweet," Francis giggled and grabbed a wild berry out of his picnic basket. He gave it to him and Arthur took it greedily, staring at it before nibbling it and then gulping down many at a time. "hey, hey, slow down! You might get sick, Arthur!"

The boy didn't stop though, as he gulped down a few more, until his cheeks were stuffed. "Mmm!"He cooed, swallowing them, but just as Francis had predicted, he hurled the berries right back up his asophagus.

"A-Arthur, are you all right?" He asked the sweet-faced boy, who was now covered in chewed-up berries.

"Ewwww!" Arthur glanced down to his puke-covered shirt. "This is disgusting!"

Francis stood up and laced his hand with Arthur's and explored around, looking for some source of water. "Calm down, Arthur, it'll be like an adventure!" Francis cheered as Arthur started to whine about his icky shirt. "We're stuck in the desert, and we need to find an oasis!"

Arthur's mood slowly began to rise, and he squeezed Francis' arm. "Or we're like pirates searching for land!" He cheered, racing ahead, dragging an un-hesitant Francis with him. "Franc..ine, you can be my damsel!"

Francis blushed and smiled, giggling at Arthur's silly proposal. "Of course, Arthur." He replied, but he really wanted to be a pirate too and fight along side him.

They skipped down the path until they came to a path covered with trees and poison ivy. They pushed it out of the way, ignoring how it caused their bare legs to itch and burn. Soon, they came to two different paths. They took the right path, and soon they could hear waves crashing against rocks and they arrived at the beach, but a deserted spot where no one could see them.

They tightened their grip on each other's hands and proceeded forward, standing on the huge rocks and jumping off of them and into the ocean.

Arthur stares at Francis awkwardly as he takes off his reddish-pink tunic and underneath, he wears only shorts. He hops into the warm water and calls ARthur over, who simply laughs and takes his own shirt off and joins him, screaming in laughter.

But soon, rain starts to pour down and they both start shivering and hurry out of the water and back into the forest.

They venture deeper into the forest then they were before. "Franc..ine..Are we lost?" Arthur shivered and held close to Francis' warmer than his body.

"Yeah.. I don't know this place.." Francis replied, and Arthur clinged to his leg.

"Franc..ine I'm cold...and scared." He stared into the forest, which wasn't getting much sun because of the huge rain clouds blocking it, so it was darkening.

"I know Arthur, it'll be okay.. We'll just find somewhere warm to stay until the sun is out and we can get out of here." Francis said, a determined expression on his face.

Arthur nodded and as they ventured through the woods in their shorts, shivering and whimpering at the cold rain.

Finally, a house came into eyesight. It was a tiny, old house, deep in the woods, and weeds practically lived there too. They ran up and down the entire house, covering it's windows. They figured the house was abandoned, so they hurried onto the porch as a snake slithered right past them, they just ignored it unlike what their usual reactions of screaming would be.  
A blot of lightening lit up the dark sky and Arthur ran into Francis' leg roughly, nuzzling it.

"I'm really scared.." Arthur whimpered, clinging tightly to Francis. "is the door unlocked?" As if on cue, Francis got the door to budge open and exposed a weed-covered and snake and rat infested cabin. They crawled inside anyways, slamming the door, eventhough it was broken now and only swung back open.

They raced around the house, trying to find the warmest room."I found a room with lots of blankets!" Francis calle dout to the younger boy, who came dashing to him, his stubby feet bobbing like a fish hook when a fish takes the bait.

Arthur admired the room for a brief moment in wonder before giggling loudly and diving into the pile of blankets, followed by Francis. They innocently snugled up for body heat and cuddled under many different blankets together on the floor, where they almost instantly fell fast asleep.

A sudden noise awakened young Arthur, and he tried shaking up his friend, but he wouldn't budge. It was still late at night, probably midnight by now, and the boy really had to pee, but when he ventured out to find the bathroom by himself, he heard a noise and ran back in here to hide behind Francis.

But his bladder couldn't hold it in much longer as he desparatly shaked Francis' sleeping body, which finally stirred for a moment before waking.

"Hey, hey, Franc..ine, plea-" His pleas were cut off when Francis grabbed him and hugged him close tiredly.

"What is it, Arthur?" He muttered silently.

"I have to pee!" He shouted it now, covering his mouth and leaning close to Francis' ear. "And I think someone else is in this house!"

Francis sat up and held the blanket to his bare chest. "A-are you sure?" He whispered, glancing around as if it were a secret.

Arthur nods, "Yeah, I think so!" He nervously bit his lip and looked around again. "Will you come with me?"

Francis shook his head quickly. "No, you're on your own! Just pee in your underwear it won't be so bad!" He whined. "It's worse than dying!"

"B-but..!" Arthur slapped his friend's arm stubbornly. "My Papa will be mad if I ruin my underwear! They're expensive!"

Francis chuckled audibly at Arthur's hissy-fit. "Fine, I'll help you, but we need weapons! Just in case they come and try to eat us!"

They both stand up and scan the room for weapons. The best weapon Francis can get is a lit lantern and Arthur gets what's left of a chair's leg.

Francis starts to creak the door open, Arthur in tow, both tightly clutching their weapons close to them like children of their own. Francis points his lantern to where he can see deep into the hallway, and in front of them there are two doors on the left side and one on the right.

"It must be one of these rooms," Francis muttered, scanning the doors with his eyes. In the eerie silence following his words, something moved behind them. Arthur, terrified, hopped right onto Francis' back and screamed. Francis turns around, the younger child still piggybacking on him, and points his lantern to see their enemy clearly.

But all that sits in the spot where the noise came from is a chubby rat of brownish-grey.

"Ahh, kill it! Kill it Francis!" Arthur cried, pointing his weapon at the small animal, who approached them slowly, causing them to back away in fear. Francis then did what he hoped he wouldn't have to do.

He tossed the lantern directly at the animal, and by the squeaking noise, it sounded like they killed it. But when Francis cautiously reached his hand towards the lantern, the rat striked from undrneath it and bit his hand, leaving deep marks.

In anger and fear, Francis began to stomp on the rat, trampling it to death. Both of the boys are screaming in fear by now running down the hall. The first room the swing thereselves into just happens to be the stairs to the basement.

Both look cautiously to one another before flicking the lightswitch on and starting down the slippery stairs.

Francis and Arthur held each other's hand tightly as they slowly ambled down the stairs, only to find it was perfect.

The room was warm, even a little steamy, and two beds were pushed together in the corner of the room. A gigantic door was in the opposite corner of the room. They curiously scattered to the door and opened it, only to find an empty little room with bars stuck through the wall and a dressing drawer in the right-hand corner.

The boys ran to it energetically and opened it. It was also empty. They shrugged and left the small closet, closing the door to it and making there way to the beds that were pushed together.

Francis climbed into the left side, Arthur in the ridght side. Arthur nervously slid towards Francis and grabbed his hand. "Keep me safe." He sang, and Francis giggled.

"Yes, darling." Francis replied, a small smile on his tender lips.

Arthur cuddled into Francis' embrace, and even though he couldn't explain it, he felt better in the "lady's" arms then holding her. He leaned onto "her" chest and fell fast asleep.

Franci cradled the slightly younger boy in his he was developing feelings for him, he had to keep his gender a secret, since the younger one probably wouldn't understand that he, a man, loves him, another man.

But maybe he would. And if he did, he might reject him. He wouldn't be able to live with that.

So being a girl wasn't so bad if it was for him.


	3. First Love

Arthur sprinted in front of his friend, kicking dirt up in the air behind him. "Hah, last one to the secret beach is a rotten egg!" He shouted, fuming up the taller boy who came running after him.

"I'll beat you there!" Francis raced along side Arthur now, grabbing his hand and swinging their hands.

"No, girls /always/ lose against us men!" Arthur taunted, still running, puffing his chest out like a body-builder.

"Non, I will win, because I look /way/ better than you!" Francis screeched, dragging Arthur until they were down at own of their favorite meet-up places; the "secret" beach spot.

Francis pulled his and Arthur's home-made fishing poles out of their places, handing Arthur's his. Francis stuck his tongue out at Arthur. "You find your own worm, Art."

Arthur turned pink and turned his nose to the air for a moment, then both of the boys chuckled.

Arthur and Francis would dig in the wet sand, find their hidden bowl of bugs, and Arthur would grab one first, tearing it in half, and he'd give half to Francis as worm guts covered his still tiny, but slightly larger fingers.

Arthur and Francis would cast their lines and sit in laughter - simply laughing at things like how our family member said something to us, or about how we thought of something funny at a weird time.

As noon would near, with neither of the boys catching a fish, they would safely hide their poles and swim in their shorts, and if they wanted to, they would go to their abandoned house, which had been cleaned up a little.

Soaking wet and with only shorts on, they would walk home hand in hand, swinging their arms and still laughing at silly things.

But today, something changed. Arthur was quieter with his laughs and more polite with his choice of words. He didn't make fun of "her" for being a "girl," and he didn't tease her about how he would win everything.

As they watched their bobbers in uncomfortable silence, Arthur suddenly reeled his line in, putting it away.

"Why are you finishing so early?" Francis asked, a gentle grin on his features.

Arthur snatched Francis' pole as well, reeling it in and putting it away too. Afterwards, he sat next to Francis and scooted towards him. He pulled a wrinkled flower out of his pocket.

"Francine. I picked you a flower." He handed the flower to a blushing Francis.

"Thanks Arthur, but what's it for?" He glanced to the flower and to Arthur, cradling it in-between his fingers.

"I..I'm five now, Francine," he whispered, "I'm a man now."

Francis giggled a little at that. He might've been older, but certainly not a man.

"Stop.. I meant it Francine!" Arthur's eyes were stone cold and not shifting emotions. "I like you more than a friend, Francine!"

Francis blushed scarlet and kissed his cheek softly. "I like you too, Arthur."

Arthur's eyes lit up like stars. "Th..then will you be...be my...my..my girlfri..end?" He stuttered nervously, holding a wild flower out to Francis this time.

Francis accepted the flower and sniffed it lovingly. "Of course, Art." Arthur blushed and kissed Francis's cheek as well.

Arthur hugged Francis tightly and they spun around like when they were younger and livelier.

Energetic and embarassed, Francis and Arthur began to wonder around, exploring some things they already discovered, when they remembered the other path on the way to their special beach spot.

Holding hands and giggling, they run through the narrow path, leading to a large , open field, with yellow flowers to the right and left, a few tiny pine trees on both sides, and in front of them was a slope.

Arthur slid down it first, extending his hand for Francis to grab, but instead, Francis hopped right down to Arthur's side and and pat his shoulder.

They continue to walk, enchanted by a gigantic willow tree hanging down over them, blocking out most of the sun. The root of the tree extends clear into the little fishing pond connected to the river.

Francis sits down right against the tree, Arthur joining his side. Francis takes off his tunic and tries to wade in the pond, but Arthur says "she's" growing up and should keep "her" shirt on. Francis gets upset and wades with the tunic on instead, and soon he is joined by Arthur.

They enjoy the willow tree's comforting feeling it gives off with it's silky leaves hanging low, almost as low as them.

The comforting feeling puts the young couple into a deep sleep.


	4. Old Willow

Arthur smiled shyly at Francis, who had proposed that they have a first date somewhere special to them.

They sat at the "old willow" as they came to call it. Francis twirled his legs around and hugged the tree. "What do couples do?" Arthur suddenly spoke up, and Francis turned his head to him.

"Hmm, I guess they kiss and things." Francis said and Arthur blushed and stuck his tongue out.

"That's disgusting, Francine!" He crossed his arms and looked at him, his blush fading.

Francis chuckled and squeezed the boy's hand gently. They gazed into the water.

"What does it feel like?" Arthur inquired suddenly, and Francis turned pink.

"What does what feel like?" He stalled, glaring at the dirt as his cheeks burned.

"What's it like to kiss someone, Francine?" Arthur climbed in front of Francis and curiously scooted in towards him.

"I dunno," Francis stated, shrugging. "I've never kissed anyone."

Arthur shyly smiled up at Francis. "I could be your first kiss."

Francis turned pink. "O-okay." He leaned his face down and closed his eyes.

Gently, Arthur pushed his virgin lips to Francis' own and it lasted for only a moment, but they both cherished it. They broke apart and smiled at eachother.

"I liked that." Arthur said, cradling his lover's hand. Francis simply giggled and they sat together in the shade, treasuring the moment.

They sat in silence, both enjoying the moment. There was nothing that had to be said, and nothing that had to be done. The both closed their eyes and laughed at the silence in usion.

They were both almost asleep when a sudden noise surrounded them. The sound of laughter and the stomping of shoes filled their ears and they both stood up as the noise approached. Arthur bravely stood in front of Francis as a group of four boys and one girl ran towards them.

"Hey, Chester, the rich bitch took our fishing spot!" One of the boys shouted, and out ouf the group, one of the other boys stepped forward.

The boy with messy brown hair and carefree face crossed his arms as he scanned over the pair. "The bastard daughter is with him too." The so called "Chester" walked towards him, smirking.

"Hey, stay away from us!" Arthur yelled, jabbing his finger in Cheter's direction, but the boy continued walking and stopped in front of Francis. He traced one finger under Francis' chin and smiled softly.

"What a pretty lady you have," Chester smirked. "did your Daddy buy her for you?"

Arthur tugged Francis to his side and away from Chester protectivly. "My father doesn't buy me everything. I can earn things myself."

Chester's smirk widened as he waltzed right back to Francis, this time tugging him away from Arthur, who instantly protested with a punch to the gut.

"Let her go, she's not yours!" Arthur huffed out, pointing at Chester.

"Are you saying you can own her?" Chester spat, turning towards Francis and kissing im roughly and pulling away. "She's not an item, Arthur."

"But /we/ are!" He pointed to Francis now. "And I said, let her go!"

Chester chuckled. "What're you going to do about it, rich boy? Your Daddy won't buy you out of this."

That was all the eight year old could stand. He raced forward and punched desperatly at the older boy's gut again. This time though, it actually hurt him a little and he pushed Francis away to fight back.

"You little /shit,/ " he spat again. "you just got yourself into a fuck load of trouble." He pushed Arthur down and started to kick him, and that's when Francis rushed in.

Francis shoved the older boy away from Arthur, and though the boy was older, he fell back because of the surprise it gave him. "Leave him alone!"

Simple words traveled to Arthur, who glanced up through his fearful and equally surprised lime eyes, which were watering now. A loud bell striked in his mind, but he was too shocked to investigate it's intentions.

"What're you gonna do about it? You're just a hoebag, you can't fight me!" Chester sneered, and in reply, Francis stepped onto Chester's stomach and pressed down, the older boy groaning in pain and grabbing at Francis' leg to try and make him fall.

But Francis' leg only pushed down harder and finally, he broke away with a growl. He stood up and shoved Francis, who grabbed his arm and pushed him back down. The boy stood up bravely for a moment, but then with a glance to his group, they all ran.

Francis gleamed with childish pride and pointed at the runaway gang. "And stay away!"

Arthur stood back up, brushing himself off. He dashed over to Francis and hugged him from behind. "My heroine." He kissed Francis' cheek with a girly chuckle.

Francis turned his head and kissed Arthur's cheek for a long minute, embarassing the other. Francis let out a giggle as Arthur fidgeted around and let go of Francis.

Francis, in reply, turns to face the other, who starts to run away from him. "Hey, wait up!"

And with that, the two run away in laughter like any other day.


	5. Guidance is Key

Nessa tightened the tie on the eight year old and chuckled. "You're going to be fine, stop worryin'."

"But what if she dresses up beter than me? I don't want her to think I don't care enough to dress up!" Arthur protested, and his older sister, Nessa, gripped his shoulders firmly.

"Look, you are eight years ol', it'll be fine," she whispered, smiling at her younger brother. "but does anything seem off about Francine?"

Arthur stomped at his sister. "Of course not, she's perfectly fine!"

"Listen to me, Artie," his sister cooed, tightening her grip on his shoulders. "is she different then other girls?"

Arthur let out a sigh. "Yeah, but it's cuz she looks better than all of them and she fishes and laughs with me! She's my best friend!"

"What would you think if I told you she was a boy?" Nessa asked, ignoring her brother's blushing face at the suggestion.

"I would tell you you're crazy!" Arthur turned scarlet and huffed out angrily.

Nessa didn't respond and continued playing with his blond hair until it was smooth.

The doorbell rang loudly and Arthur giggled, running happily to the door. He opened the door and instantly hugged the boy standing there - his sweet Francine.

Francis hurried inside, carrying a large box decorated with pink and green swirls. Arthur takes the present and shows Francis around his mansion.

"And this is my room!" He cheers, slamming the door open and exposing a simple room with a rabbit and a goldfish in cages and bowls. "Isn't it cool?"

Francis was truly amazed and taken-aback by the house itself, and his room was gigantic.

Since the party didn't start anytime soon, the two of them sat in Arthur's room.

"So what all do we do today?" Francis' eager eyes were guided deep into Arthur's.

"We play games, open presents, eat party food... And I set up a special dance for us."

"What do you mean?" Francis was blushing slightly.

"Well, we get to dance all alone in the ballroom. We have plenty of gowns if you want to pick one."

"I knew you were rich, but not royalty!" Francis teased, and grinned sheepishly.

Arthur shrugged, a gentle blush on his cheeks. "That's what my Pap treats me like."

"I can see that." Francis held Arthur's hand and watched his blush darken. "I appreciate the gowns. I would like to wear my current outfit though."

Arthur's eyes flew over Francis' outfit. It was an unusually boyish outfit. It was a blue shirt with black shorts and brown shoes. The only girly thing about it was the strawberry-shaped hairpin in Francis' curled hair.

"But why? Those are boy clothes!" Arthur called out, his blush darkening at how it tightened around her body.

Francis pouted and crossed his arms. "But I like these clothes, Art.."

"But, those are for /boys!/" Arthur replied, biting his lip at how Francis pouted. "Don't be like that, Francine..."

Francis' pout deepened. "I just want to be more like you, Art." He answered, lying to him, as well as himself. He wore these clothes because tonight he would tell Arthur that he was also male.

Arthur smiled. "That's nice of you, Francine," he cradled Francis' hand. "but those are boys' clothes. I have a perfect dress for you, darling."

Francis giggled at the nickname "darling," and he smirked. "Then you have to wear one too."

Arthur shook his head quickly. "No, no! This is a special outfit, just for us!" He blushed and spoke swiftly.

"Then I'll wear a suit too!" Francis responded, and Arthur silently shook his head. "And why not?"

"That's for men only, Francine..Please just wear the dress.."He muttered, and siging, Francis nodded.

"I'll wear the dress." He spoke up dreadly, and Arthur's face lit up.

"Thank you, Francine." His eyes twinkled happily. "I'll go fetch the gown."

Francis nodded as he looked down at his outfit and Arthur rushed out of the room. Suddenly there was a knock on the door.

Francis stood up and opened the door, his bright smile greeting the intruder. "Hello?" His voice echoed and Arthur's older sister glanced around her before ambling into the room. She smiled at the confused Francis.

"Francine..." She mumbled, sitting down on Arthur's bed and patting the spot beside her, inviting the young boy. He shut the bedroom door behind him and sat next to the ginger.

"Yes?" He looked up at her, his eyebrows furrowed. Was he in trouble?

"May I call you..Francis?" She inquired, and his eyes went wide with realization. They shrunk back down and slowly, he nodded. He was silent. "What're you going to do?"

"What do you mean?" He questioned, and she chuckled to herself.

"You're getting to the age of..." She chuckled again. "to the age of puberty."

He curiously put a single finger to his bottom lip. "What's puberty?"

She giggled again, and took both of his hands in hers. "You'll become a boy, Francis."

Francis' eyes darkened and his smile fell. "Oh..." It was as if he understood what she was getting to. "W-what...what will Arthur do?"

"That's my question..." She smiled at him, though her eyes were still upset. "So I have a suggestion.."

"What's your suggestion?" Francis inquired almost silently, biting his lip.

"I suggest that you tell him the truth now..It'll be easier on him then it'll be a few years down the road."

"But..wha-what if he breaks up with me?" Francis' once eager was now afraid.

"Well...Maybe it'll help you one day." Nessa said, squeezing his hands as a form of comfort.

He shook his head stubbornly. "I can't! It'll hurt his feelings!"

"But don't you understand?" She was trying her best to keep her cool, but her personality was at it's brim. "He'll know you're a man when you don't have boobies like the other girls!"

The room went silent with the realization of what the following events would be.

Francis broke the silence with a tiny giggle. "You said boobies."

She groaned and grasped his shoulders in her arms. "You have to tell him the truth!" She started to shake him roughly.

"I don't want to!" Tears starts to fall down gracefully from his cheeks. "He'll hate me!"

She couldn't tell him any words of comfort now. She knew he was probably right, knowing how stubborn Arthur was. "Fine, do what you want...but don't say I didn't warn you. It'll break the both of you in a year or so...Maybe even tomorrow."

"No it won't, we'll be fine! We'll love each other forever!" Francis cried softer as she stood up and headed for the door, chuckling.

"I hope you will." She whispered to herself, though it did not go silent of Francis' tiny ears. She left the room and slammed the door behind her. All he could do is stare and wonder what she meant by some of her words.

"Maybe..tomorrow?" He mouthed the words, but no sound came out his salty lips. He wiped away his tears and breathed in deeply, waiting for Artur's return.

Soon, Arthur arrived back at the door, a long dress flinged over his shoulder. He smiled mutely and pranced over to Francis. He handed the dress to Francis, who plastered on a fake grin.

"Thank you, Artie." He giggled and the other blushed. "Can you go into the hallway so that I can change?"

Arthur nodded, burning madly as he rushed into the hallway. Once he was completley outside, Francis glanced down to the dress.

It was a graceful gown of pearl and light strawberry. The major part of the gown was eggshell, but the brim of the under-blouse was bright pink-red. Within the dress, two gloves were hidden. He smiled as he pulled them out of the gown, examining their ruby shade.

He bit his lip as he stripped his casual shirt and observed himself in the miror. He traced his fingers down his chest and frowned. "I'll show them, I can be a girl if I want to!"

A curious and bashful Arthur peeked his tiny eyes through the peephole, longing to get a minature glance at Francis changing, but what he saw shattered his eyes.

Francis was dancing in front of the mirror, his shirt litered on the ground. Arthur giggled lightly and blushed at his bare chest. While he was peeking, something smacked him aside the head.

"What was that for?" Arthur pouted and rubbed his head as he faced the opposite direction.

"Don't peek at little girls, Artie." His father chuckled and ruffled the boy's hair. "Not without this." He handed his son a magnifying glass.

"What's this for?" The curious Arthur examined the device.

"You'll get a better view, my boy." His father pat his back and walked away, and Arthur blushed as he pushed the magnifying glass to the peep hole.

He started to giggle as he saw Francis dancing around in a womens' bra. That simple laugh caught the ears of a now blushing Francis, who covered his young chest and raced to the door, covering the little peephole.

"Awwh." Arthur called out, getting a 'hmph' in return.

Francis swiftly got dressed in the gown and chuckled. "Are you still there?" He inquired almost silently, and he got a laugh in return. "I'm coming out in a moment, okay?" Francis smacked the towel down that he put on the peephole and hid. Arthur took advantage of the moment and peeked his little magnifying glass to the peephole. But instead of Francis' petite figure, he saw nothing.

"Huh?" He gasped and then two large eyes peeked through the other side of the peephole and they both burst into laughter.

When their laughter finally quieted down, Francis opened the door and Arthur held out his arm and Francis curtsied.

"May I take you to the ballroom?" He questioned an astonishing Francis, who blushed and went with it.

"Yes you may, but only if thou is my first dance of the night." Francis sang, and Arthur's face soured.

"But I wanna be your /only/ dance, Francine!" He stated, staring directly into Francis' eyes.

"You will be my only dance, silly." Francis cooed, gripping tightly to Arthur's arm.

Arthur chuckled happily and kissed Francis' cheek. "Good!" He replied, and the two frolocked into the kitchen curiously.

Arthur peeked his tiny face over the counter, his eyes traveling to the stove. "What're you making?"

The chef cursed under her breath at the sight of the children but acted polite anyways. "It's a surprise, Arthur."

"Okay, thanks Betty," he replied, grinning chastly at her. "can Francine and I have a snack?"

The chef chuckled. "But then you won't be hungry at dinner time!"

"But we will!" Arthur whined, tugging on Betty's arm. "Please?"

Betty glanced to her steaming skillet and back to Arthur. "Fine," she spoke quietly, "but don't tell your father this happened."

Arthur giggled and ran to the fridge with Francis holding his hand tightly. He swung the door open and peered into it, Francis' beady eyes peeking over his shoulder curiously.

One shiny bottle caught both pairs of eyes of the young boys, and Francis reached over Arthur's shoulder to snatch it. He held it by the cork on the tip-top of the glass bottle, shaking it slightly. "What is this?" Arthur muttered, his mouth agape with curiousity as he snatched it from Francine and shook it as well.

Francis gufawed lightly, his eyes zooming over the bottle of brown glass. "It looks like my Mama's soda pop!"

Arthur nodded in response, his greedy, tiny hands loosing grip of the bottle, and both boys fumeled to catch it, but alas, they were too late. The glass let out a shrill scream as it crashed against the tiled floor, and both males covered their ears.

Betty swiftly glanced over the counter, her eyes wide with fear and surprise. She rushed over, kneeling down in front of the young boys. "Are you all right? Did the glass cut you, or-" Arthur let out a microscopic chuckle as he dropped his hands from his ears.

"That was so cool! It looks like it exploded, like 'bloosh!' and then, the soda pop made a puddle, and then-" Arthur went on and on about how excited he was, seeing some action in the reflections of his emerald, childish eyes.

But Betty wasn't as pleased with this, and soon, a different noise was heard as she reached across and slapped the boy's cheek. "Do you know what kind of trouble you're in?" She growled, though worry still made it's way into her eyes. "Your father will be disappointed in you!"

"...Are you sure?" Arthur's tiny orbs of mint glistened as he cradled his red cheek. "I'm pretty sure dad will fire you when he found out that you smacked me."

"I don't believe that in the slightest. Now march yourself back to your room right now, young man!" Betty furrowed her eyebrows and crossed her arms impatiently.

"Make me!" Arthur shouted, his tears still glimmering fromt the present pain on his cheekbone.

"I will report this to your father if you don't go to your room, /right/ now." She replied, and Arthur puffed out his chest.

"Why would I care what he thinks?" Arthur glared at the taken-aback female.

"What do you mean?" The usually silent Francis spoke up, smiling encouragingly.

"He doesn't really love me, that's why!" The young boy's tears gathered quicker than before as he stood his ground.

"Young sir!" Betty shouted, her eyes filled with mixes of confusion and understanding, both of the emotions battling one another. But confusion won, and her eyes read him. "I assure you that is incorrect! Your father cares for you very much!"

"She's right, he does love you!" Francis encouraged, squeezing Arthur's shoulder for support.

"No he doesn't! All he loves is money!" The scrawney boy whined, stomping his foot.

"Artie..." Francis muttered, still gripping the other boy's shoulder.

"He does everything he can for you, Arthur! He buys you whatever you want! What more could a little brat ask for?" Betty shouted, vilontly glaring at the boy.

"A mom!" The answer caught both Francis and Betty off guard, and within seconds, Arthur erupted into tears and ran away from the scene.

"Wait, Artie!" Francis dashed after him, as fast as his stubby legs could carry his fragile frame.

Soon, Francis found himself lost in the large household, but still, he wandered around aimlessly, searching for his friend. "Arthur! Come out!" The boy called down numerous halls, but soon found himself chasing his own tail. Frustrated, Francis sat down on the carpeted ground and curled his feet to his chest, whimpering.

"Artie, please come out! I'm all alone and your home is really big! I'm lost!" He whined, even though he knew Arthur couldn't possibly hear him.

But loud footsteps did find him, slowly creeping into the same hall as him, and he began to cry for his friend more audibly.

But his cries halted when a man with a golden goatee and mathing hair, aside from brown tips, extended his arm to him. He pulled the juvenile up to his wobbly feet, casting a smiel his way.

"Ya lost kiddo?" The man questioned, looking around.

"Yeah...I'm visitin' Artie because today is his birthday, and he..he ran off and left me all alone!" Francis' eyes watered, and the man nodded after e hearing the tale.

"C'mon, I'll help ya find him." The man replied, grabbing Francis' hand without hesitation as he paced through an unfamiliar hallway. A silence casted over the pair as they turned into yet another hallway. "So what's your name, little man?"

Francis stopped walking and tore his hand from the man. "How did you know I'm a boy?"

The man chuckled. "It's pretty obvious. Your voice is just startin' to deepen, and you aren't developing a chest. Why ya so upset about me knowin', kid?"

"B..because Arthur doesn't know...he thinks I'm a girl..." Francis mumbled, and the guy grimaced.

"So you're Francis, I presume?" The man inquired softly, his voice losing all energetic emotion.

"Yeah, that's me...how do you know?" Francis requested, trying to read the man's expression, though his attempts were hopeless.

"The sir...the king of this company..Arthur's father...he doesn't like you." The man spoke softly, trying not to make the child cry more.

"Why doesn't he like me..? I haven't done nothin' wrong, I swear!" The juvenile whined.

"There's more than one reason, Francis... He doesn't want his son to turn out...ya know.." The older man bit his lip, hoping the child understood what he was getting at.

"Doesn't want his son to turn out what?" Francis curiously stared down the man, who sighed.

"He doesn't want him to be gay.." The guy said, earning a confused expression from the dazed boy.

"What does "gay" mean?" The boy tilted his head, holding his hand to his face.

"It's when...there are...he doesn't want his little boy to love other little boys, he wants him to like little girls." The man explained slowly, scanning the eyes of the youngster. "Do you understand?"

"I think so..." Francis trailed off slowly, frowning. "Why else doesn't he like me?"

The man chuckled. "Ya sure are curious kid...why do ya need to know anyways?"

"Well, I like being with Arthur, and I always want to be with him...but if his Pa doesn't like that...I might not be able to be with him forever..." Francis whispered sadly, and the older guy shook his head north and south.

"Well, if ya really wanna know.. he doesn't want him to like someone without a lotta cash." The male spoke, kneeling down to eye level with Francis.

"Why not? Shouldn't he just let his son be happy..? Isn't that how fathers are supposed to be..?" Francis enjoined almost silently, agony in his shaking voice.

"Well, it's not really my place to speak, but I'll tell ya this, kid; He gripped the boy's shoulder, smiling cleverly at him. "Ya better listen to his dad, or that guy will bust ya 'till ya bleed."

"Whaddya mean by that?" The adolescent male's eyes grew wide with fear, and the older man let out a dark chuckle.

"Nothin', just keep ya secret hidden for a while, 'kay? Promise me that, Francis." The guy said, and Francis bit his lip.

"But..his sister told me to tell him the truth..I dunno which I should do.." Francis' eyes grew upset and confused.

"Well, when the time comes, y'all know what to do. Just be careful 'bout where and how you do it." The man explained, raising himself to his usual height and snatching Francis' hand in his as they continued to search.

"Whaddya mean? Can't I tell him anywhere?" Francis interrogated the senoir, who tugged his hand slightly forward.

"Don't tell him around his family or anyone else, only when you're alone," The strange fellow answered, a smile on his lips as he spoke, "and make sure he can't escape, 'cause chances are, he'll be so surprised and confused he'll wanna run off to think. And if he does that, he'll probably tell somebody. Don't get /anyone/ else involved in this."

"Not anyone? Not even my Ma?" The youthful lad quized as they skipped into a tiny coridour.

"Not anyone. Just him, that's all who needs to know anyways." The college-aged gentleman said as they reached a door and stopped. The male knealt down one last time to glance eye-to-eye with the sprout. "I wish ya luck, Francis. If ya ever need any help, just call." The guy handed the half-pint a card as he stood back to his usual posture, facing away from Francis.

"Toodle ooh." The college-aged man started to waltz down the couridor they just came from, and the squirt waved.

But soon, the schoolboy was left alone. He glanced down to the card with a small smile. He scanned over the card, learning that the mysterious, kind male was named, "Willfreid Dante," and that he was a successful buisnessman in the chocolate buisness. Francis tittered a little as he pushed the card into the front of his dress. He knocked on the door and wasn't given a response, so the child pushed open the door and glanced around, finding the same bedroom the two were in earlier.

Francis grunted in worry as he began to search the slightly large room, not finding any clue as to where his lost friend was hiding. He let out a defeated sigh after what felt like years of searching, which was only approximatly ten minutes.

He stumbled over to Arthur's large bed and climbed onto it. He glanced around once again, but found no sign of his pal. He let out yet another upset sigh as he slammed his fists down onto one of Arthur's pillow, and then he lifted the soft object and tossed it, repeating it to it's neighboring pillow.

He lifted up the blanket to do it as well, but found a certain lad under the cover, sleeping peacefully.

"Arthur!" Francis exclaimed, hugging the other lad, who slept through the comforting hold. Francis chuckled and curled up with his friend, still embracing his tiny frame. Francis brushed a strand piece of hair out of the smaller stripling's face, colliding his fingers with the soft skin of the other. He smiled softly and closed his own eyes, still holding his buddy.

Within minutes, he passed out as well, embracing his friend tightly, holding the younger runt to his rising and falling chest.


End file.
